


Ankle Biter

by Rayvee



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Gen, Purple is Australian, Purple is an OC I have, This is a bit of her backstory?, blame Pyro, i guess?, i have no idea what this is, send help, why am I doing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27316930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayvee/pseuds/Rayvee
Summary: When the imposter Orange is caught, Purple winds up adopting the hatchling he leaves behind.Then, she must choose whether or not to fulfill Orange's final request.
Relationships: Mini Crewmate & Purple (Among Us), No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 93





	Ankle Biter

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what this is or why I wrote this.  
> I just know this is Pyro's fault.
> 
> Purple's lore can be found here: https://rayveewrites.tumblr.com/post/632924720913956864/my-among-us-oc-purple-her-real-name-is-silvia

Purple sighed as Orange floated off, his stomach-mouth becoming visible in his final death throes. The Imposter had been good, she had to admit- he’d managed to convince the crew Lime was the alien on board, and had even gone so far as to question Purple about why she hadn’t reacted when they found Red’s body- or at least, what had remained of it. But after hauling his misshapen body out of a vent in front of Yellow, Cyan, and Pink, he had accepted his fate. Which left Purple in a predicament. 

For some reason Purple had never been able to discern, she had always attracted children. She wasn’t sure why- she was coarse, sarcastic, and not particularly friendly with  _ anyone  _ (don’t get attached was her personal motto), but somehow she always found herself babysitting Human children and Strixx hatchlings alike.   
This was a step too far, though.

The ongoing conflict between MIRA and the Strixx species was something Purple had never really understood. Someone had pissed someone else off, she guessed. It wasn’t  _ her  _ problem. As a result, she had stopped giving a damn about the species of the children she babysat- she complained about them equally.  
She had never been asked to  _ adopt  _ one, though. 

Purple stared down at Mini Orange. Both species allowed each other’s young to live- it was only once they were of age that they were considered ‘fair game’. MIRA tended to gather up Strixx hatchling when they were available- what they did with them, nobody knew. Orange hadn’t trusted MIRA to keep Mini Orange safe, though. So when it became clear that Orange was going to be voted off…

_ “Purple- they seem to like you. Look after them, please.”  
_ _ “Orange, you can’t be serious. I’m not equipped to adopt a child. Hatchling. Whatever.”  
_ _ “Just for a little while- until there’s a better option. Please. You’re the only one they trust. The only one they’ll accept. You’re the best available option. Please.”  
_ _ Purple had complained, and the others had raised their own complaints, and Orange continued begging, until-  
_ _ “Fine! Fine. I’ll adopt the damn hatchling. Whatever. But only for the rest of the mission, okay?!” _

_ Orange had handed her a sheet of paper, complete with instructions on how to care for a Strixx hatchling- diet, sleep cycles, ‘teething problems’, hygiene, et cetera. Purple had just taken it, folded it, and shoved it into her pocket. Then Pink and Yellow- the strongest members of the crew- had forced Orange out the airlock. _

And now Purple was saddled with his child. His small, tangerine coloured, sharp-toothed child.  
She was already regretting her life choices.

***

While Strixx could digest plant fiber just fine (with some exceptions- mint, hot spices, and caffeine were all major  _ nos _ , among others), they didn’t get as much out of it as a human would. They were built to handle meat.   
Where Orange expected Purple to get meat from on an extended space journey, Purple didn’t know. Imps tended to get their food via murder. Purple was not an imp.

“Hungeeeee!” Mini Orange cried, headbutting her in the leg for the third time. Purple sighed.   
“Mate, I don’t have any food for you right now. You’ll have to wait until dinner, okay?”  
“Hungee now! Daddy always had finga snacks!” Purple stared at the hatchling, filing that mildly disturbing information away for later.  _ Imps carry fingers to snack on. Sure. Why not?  
_ “Kid, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not your dad. I’m a  _ human _ , and I don’t eat other humans.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because that would be  _ cannibalism _ . Would you eat a dead Strixx?” Mini Orange paused for a moment. Then:  
“Hungeeeeeeeee!” Purple just sighed again.  
_ This is going to be a long trip. _

***

In some ways, Strixx hatchlings and Human kids were practically identical.   
For example: vegetables.  
Mini Orange was absolutely adamant that exactly no pieces of carrot would enter their stomach.

“Alright, how about this,” Purple decided, getting thoroughly sick of the whole thing, “ _ you _ eat your vegetables, and then I’ll let you have a vegemite sandwich for dessert.” Mini Orange’s eyes lit up. For reasons that Purple didn’t understand, vegemite was like catnip to imposters. Sure, it was good (non-Aussies didn’t know what they were talking about, and she was prepared to die on that hill.), but it was almost  _ addictive  _ to them. Purple had taken to always keeping a big jar or two in her quarters, for both food and bribery purposes. Stuff never went off.  _ Ever _ . It was kind of impressive, actually.

After convincing Mini Orange to spit the plate out, (“It’s not edible! So don’t eat it!”) Purple gave Mini Orange the promised sandwich. It would make him easier to wrangle in future if he knew she actually kept her promises.

***

Reading through Orange’s care instructions, Purple found a surprising note about two-thirds of the way down the page. Hidden in plain sight.

  * _I don’t trust mira to care for my child. I don’t know what they do with the hatchlings they take, but nobody’s ever seen them again. I couldn’t bear for him to be harmed by them. If you can, send them home. Please._



Underneath were coordinates. To Grendix. The Strixx’s home planet.  
This was  _ huge _ .  
MIRA had been searching for the planet ever since the first instance of an imposter had appeared on a Skeld ship. To destroy or just to threaten, Purple didn’t know. And Orange had just  _ handed  _ it to her, a mostly-stranger. Purple could sell this to MIRA for ridiculous amounts of money- she could essentially name her price.  
But to do that would be to hand the fate of an entire species over to a group of billionaires. Purple did not trust anyone willing enough to tread on people to the degree it took to become a billionaire with this information. She sighed, and laid back in her bunk. Maybe she would think about it in the morning.

***

Nobody who got so excited about vegemite on toast could be  _ that  _ evil. Mini Orange ate his breakfast with gusto, wiping up every last crumb with his long tongue. Purple was fully aware of how dangerous those tongues were- she’d once seen an imp spear a Pink through the face with one. That had been a fun evening. She’d very nearly been shoved out the airlock herself.

It was less that she hid her emotions when it came to death, and more that she’d seen it so many times it had lost its effect on her. She had quickly learned to accept that each day on one of MIRA’s missions might very well be her last, and as a result she no longer feared death. As for the brutally dismembered and mutilated corpses- well, when saw enough of them, one grew used to it.  
That was something that would concern most humans.

“Purp, what  _ are  _ you feeding them? I thought imps couldn’t ingest coca.” White had come up behind her, hands on hips.  
“Who said it had coca? This is vegemite.” White blinked, then shook her head.  
"You Australians are weird. I don't know how anyone actually eats that stuff."  
"Vegemite is a perfectly good spread! You Americans don’t know what you're talking about. Besides, it’s saved my life a couple of times.”  
“How does  _ vegemite  _ save anyone’s life?!”  
“Stuff’s like catnip for imps. Impnip.” White stared at her for a long moment.  
“You're crazy.”  
“I know. But it’s true. Try it sometimes.” She knew White was rolling his eyes behind his visor. Whatever. If he got his head taken off by an imp because he was too proud to keep a jar, that was his problem. She probably wouldn’t see any of the other crewmates after the mission, anyway. 

Many MIRA employees had a ‘usual’ crew- a group of other astronauts they frequently went on missions with. Purple wasn’t like that. The botanist bounced from crew to crew, mission to mission, never staying with one person long enough to get attached. It wasn’t a good idea to get attached to someone- or even a group of someones- who might be beheaded at any second. Not worth it, if you asked Purple. She’d always been a loner, even as a kid. She just preferred to do her own thing.

Purple wasn’t unique in that regard- there were plenty of people in a similar situation, just filling in whatever gaps in whatever crew. Mostly other veterans, who’d been doing this sort of thing for a while. People in crews tended to dislike those who weren’t, going so far as to vote out loners on principle. 

Purple readjusted her flower, then scooped up Mini Orange (their legs going a mile a minute) and headed toward O2. Purple was the resident botanist (aka ‘the lady who kept the plants alive so nobody died of suffocation or starvation’), and as a result spent a lot of time there, tending to the plants. Pruning, checking water and oxygen levels, making sure they got enough nutrients. It was simple, familiar work, something she’d done a thousand times. She let her body operate on autopilot, humming as she went.  
“Whatcha doin’?” She’d almost forgotten Mini Orange was there- she’d given him a couple toys she’d found in Orange’s quarters and let him sit and play.  
Watering the plants.”  
“No, the thingy with the noise.” Purple thought for a minute.  
“You mean humming?”  
“Dunno what it’s called.”  
There was a moment of silence. Then:  
“Do Strixx have music?” Mini Orange cocked his head.  
Purple sighed and pulled out her tablet, “You know, like this.” She put a random playlist on.  _ Count the teeth  _ started playing. She contemplated changing it, but opted to leave it as it was. Mini Orange listened to it for a while.  
“Daddy listened to something similar, but it didn’t have words.”

***

When one worked for MIRA, one learned to fill in for basically every other position available. It was just practical in a job where anybody could die at any moment. As a result, Purple was perfectly competent at navigation. She knew when would be the best time to launch the escape pod programmed to reach Grendix: tomorrow. At about 3AM. Lovely.

Purple had turned the situation over in her head every night since she’d found the note, and she’d swung back and forth between handing Mini Orange over to MIRA and returning them to their own kind.  
In the end, though, there wasn’t really a choice.  
“Alright, squirt, time to go,” she carefully shook him awake, careful to not wake the others. Mini Orange gave a quiet  _ peep _ ? Purple hurriedly hushed him.  
"Come on, I'm sending you back to your home planet, like your father asked." Mini Orange muttered something sleepily and settled back down, so Purple just rolled her eyes and picked him up, covering their mouth with her hand.  _ That _ woke them up.

She was halfway to the escape pods when they bit her hand. She hissed, trying very hard to not either drop the hatchling or wake the rest of the ship.  
" _Ow_. Okay, okay, calm down, we're just gonna send you home to your mum. Okay? Okay. Now, you've gotta stay  _ quiet _ ," she whispered. Mini Orange blinked up at her. She started to him, just quietly, and they slowly extracted their teeth from her hand.  


Reaching the pods without further incident, Purple quickly chose the one most likely to not collapse, did some quick repair work, and programmed the thing so it wouldn't set off any alarms and go straight to Grendix. She added a broadcast message- a simple 'do not shoot this down the only inhabitant is a Strixx hatching' to increase Mini Orange's chances of survival, and then she placed the hatchling down on the floor in the middle of the pod.

"Now, kiddo, this pod will take you home, okay? So you stay here, and I'll launch it, and when you arrive you'll have a perfectly normal Strixx life, okay?" Mini Orange cocked his head, and then:  
"You come?" Purple just sighed.  
"No squirt, I can't come, okay? I've gotta stay here. Ready to go?"  
"You come!" Mini Orange proceeded to give a whole new meaning to the term 'ankle biter'.  
Carefully prying the hatchling's jaws off her leg, she plopped them on the floor of the pod, handed him a small her of vegemite, and darted out of the pod, quickly shutting the door behind her.

Mini Orange was still licking at the jar when the pod launched. He looked up to see Purple standing at the launch bay. She gave a small wave, then turned and limped towards the Medbay. 

As she went, she hoped Mini Orange would be able to find the stash of food, and make it last.


End file.
